


Mine

by luciusmistress



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gun Kink, Incest, Jealousy, M/M, Mental Instability, Obsession, Sibling Incest, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:33:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3889579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciusmistress/pseuds/luciusmistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regulus is fucking Evan Rosier. Sirius doesn't like it one bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> For thepretender501 for winning Mods' choice in the first round at deatheaterdrabs. Like five years ago, lol.

The blow comes so fast that Regulus has no chance of defending himself and the fist lands so hard that it splits his lip against his teeth. "You've been fucking someone else," Sirius growls, rage tainting his face, turning it ugly.

Regulus lifts a hand to his stinging lips and it comes away bloody. "So?" he asks coldly and licks the blood off his fingers.

"So?" Sirius hisses, spit spraying his brother's face. "You are mine, do you hear? Mine!"

Contempt radiating off him in waves, Regulus meets his brother's blazing eyes and raises an eyebrow. The effect is instantaneous: all the rage drains from Sirius' face and is replaced with such hatred that it approaches madness in its intensity. "I'm going to kill you," he says, his voice now calm and matter-of-fact as he reaches into a pocket.

Fingers curling around his own wand, Regulus watches as his brother pulls out not a wand but a curious metal object that catches a ray of sunlight, blazing so bright for a second that it blinds Regulus, throws him off balance. That is all it takes: Sirius lunges at him, forcing him to his knees, and cold metal presses against his cheek.

Regulus looks up at his brother and yawns, very deliberately. "A Muggle weapon? How charming." He smiles at the flash of uncertainty in Sirius' eyes and goads him further. "So, you have finally spent so much time with Mudbloods that you have forgotten how to use your wand. Go on then; I would rather die than see my family reduced to this."

The metal object—a gun, Regulus suddenly remembers it is called—presses against his bloodied lips, silencing him. "Shut up," Sirius whispers in a strained, dangerous voice. "Shut up and tell me why you come to me tasting and smelling of Evan Rosier."

Regulus opens his mouth, allowing the tip of the barrel to slip between his lips. "Which do you wish me to do?" he asks, the words slightly muffled, and swirls his tongue suggestively over the cold metal. "I can't do both." He moves forward just so and sucks a bit more of the gun's barrel into his mouth.

Sirius makes a choked sound, somewhere between a sob and a moan. "Merlin, you're beautiful!"

In one fluid movement, like a striking snake, Regulus is on his feet and wrenches the gun from his brother's slackened grip. Holding it steady against Sirius' temple, he leans in for a kiss. His blood, _their blood_ , mingles on their tongues as the kiss deepens, becoming a lost fight for dominance.

Hands move over familiar bodies, finding tender spots discovered over years of mutual passion, tearing at clothes until they reach warm, smooth skin. Sirius' fingers slide between Regulus' buttocks and his body stiffens; his brother is still slick with another man's seed. He tries to pull away, but Regulus stops him, one hand around his neck, the other pressing the gun harder against Sirius' head. "Fuck me, big brother," he whispers against his lips.

Shaking, Sirius shrugs the remainders of his robe off and allows his brother to push him to the floor. When Regulus joins him, a sleeve slides up, revealing the Dark Mark, a blazing scar adorning perfect skin. Sirius shudders at the sight, but reaches up and kisses it nevertheless. Moaning quietly, Regulus straddles his hips and sinks down on his cock, wand long forgotten, but the gun still pointing at his brother's face. Sirius shoves it aside and it clatters on the floor, as useless as love.

Reaching for all that he can still have, Sirius' hands grip slender hips hard enough to bruise and he bucks up into his brother as Regulus rides him hard. For a moment, suspended in time like the neverending animation of a portrait, there is no Evan Rosier, no Dark Mark, no Order of the Phoenix, no line to be crossed between brother and lover. All that remains are two bodies that merge, two sets of grey eyes that lock. 

Too soon, orgasm intrudes, shattering the perfect moment. Sirius looks away. "Why?" he whispers into the absence of moans.

Regulus runs a finger through the sticky, cooling mess on his brother's stomach and paints Sirius' lower lip with it. "Because," he says and bends down to kiss him.


End file.
